


til death due us part

by maiyro



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Also attempted suicide, F/F, Fluff, Idk what i'm doing, No Rewind Powers, chloe is a ghost, ghost au, ghost gf - Freeform, nothing too explicit but be careful pls, pricefield, slowburn, swear words kids look away, this do be self indulgent, very angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26410231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maiyro/pseuds/maiyro
Summary: It was the cycle of life.She knew it had to be that way. People were born, they lived, and they died. They had done it ever since the first human roamed the Earth, and they'd continue to do it until the last one took their final breath. But Max knew what happened after. She knew what became of ghosts.She talked to them, heard them, befriend them--but fall in love with them?Only with Chloe.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. Safe Haven

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this fic in between online classes until one of my friends told me i should publish it soooo that's exactly what i'm doin n yeah thats it :)

It all started in the bathroom. 

That _damned_ bathroom with dirty floors and vulgar graffiti on the walls, graffiti no one found particularly funny yet kept adding to the pile. It was an ugly bathroom, clearly not a lot of money was put into its quality and whoever was in charge of cleaning it always did the bare minimum, so it was quite ironic Max had adopted it as her safe haven. 

Those dirty floors had caught her tears, the vulgar graffiti had witnessed the comforting thoughts she’d try to say out loud but her voice would always break. Here, nobody would waltz in the middle of her panic attack. She could be free here and have enough time to calm down, then go back to the real world. 

That was until she met Chloe. 

She couldn’t remember the exact date, other than somewhere along the beginning of October. Max had been splashing cold water on her face to hopefully snap out of her increasing panic. And it had worked, in a way. Bent over the sink, she raised her eyes to meet her own gaze in the mirror, and a girl standing behind her. It had startled her so much, since she hadn’t heard the girl come in, and turned to face her immediately. But where the girl had been standing, was nothing but cool air. 

At first she thought it was a trick her mind was playing. The result of her panic attack. She went to her dorm and lived out the rest of the day like nothing happened. 

The next day, she returned to the bathroom but for different reasons. She actually had to go this time. The middle stall was always her favorite. It was the cleanest and it was the only one that never ran out of toilet paper. So naturally, she went there. 

Max opened the door of the middle stall and gasped in shock when she saw the same girl from yesterday, leaning against one of the sinks with crossed arms. 

“Jesus!” Max breathed, stepping back and putting her hand on her rapid beating hard. “You scared the living shit out of me.” 

The girl raised her eyebrow and scoffed. Max had been in Blackwell for a couple of months, yet she didn’t remember seeing her _anywhere._ She’d remember someone with electric blue hair and even more electric eyes. 

“Yeah, you’re a real fucking comedian.” The girl replied, averting her gaze. “What’s next? You’re gonna say I ‘take your breath away’?” 

Max blinked. “Why...why would I say that?”

The girl scowled. “Cuz you were joking? The whole… _living_ thing? Breath? Heartbeat? Isn’t that what you were going for?” 

The whole conversation had just gotten incredibly confusing. Both looked equally lost and Max was just begging for an escape out of this situation. The only reason she had even talked to the girl in the first place was because she scared her. 

Max shook her head. “I-I don’t know what you thought I was going for. But stop sneaking up on me. It’s scary.”

The girl shrugged her shoulders. “Well, what am I supposed to do next time? Tap your shoulder?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Max said. “That’d be great.”

She laughed. It was quite warm, actually. “ _Now_ you’re just messing with me.”

Max still didn’t understand. “Why would I be messing with you?”

“Because I’m _dead?_ ” The girl acknowledged, spreading out her arms like it was obvious. “I’m dead and I can’t touch you?”

A beat of silence. A single drop from the faucet fell on the sink, interrupting their silence. It was Max’s turn to laugh now, so she did. 

The girl rolled her eyes and turned away. It didn’t seem like she was joking. Warren had talked about a mental illness once, walking corpse syndrome if she remembered correctly, where the person truly and utterly thought they were dead. Maybe...this was the case. He had mentioned it was incredibly rare though...or maybe it had nothing to do with that. Maybe this was a weird kink. Or fetish. Or anything other than the girl telling the truth because _how_ could she be telling the truth? 

“You can’t be serious,” Max said when the silence had gone for a while. 

“I am,” She replied. “On October 7th, I was shot in the stomach in this fucking bathroom.”

October 7th. Max tried to remember what she was doing that day. Truthfully, it was too hard to remember which meant she wasn’t doing anything of importance.

“But…” Her brain tried to process all of this information. “I would’ve heard something about you. The school would’ve closed or something!”

The girl faced her again and this time, Max looked at her closely. Her skin was ivory, absolutely no hint of any color. And while her eyes remained the most colorful part about her, everything else from her face lacked something. Life. 

“The person who killed me really knows how to dig his secrets.” The girl murmured, her hand lingering on her stomach like she remembered the impact of the bullet. 

Max was about to say something else when the bell rang. She swallowed her words and said nothing to the girl as she walked out of the bathroom. The hallways were empty as she made her way to her next class, realizing it was inevitable to avoid being late. It was only when she was sitting down in her science class, still in shock by what had occurred in the bathroom, that she realized she had never even asked the ghost her name.

__________

Max started to ask questions. 

She didn’t know a lot of people in Blackwell, but those she knew did their best to answer all of her doubts. Kate had never heard of someone die on campus, but she admitted a girl with blue hair seemed familiar. She just didn’t remember her name. Warren was just as new as Max so all he could help with was the Internet, which was no help at all. No articles of a dead girl could be found, or even a hint of controversies surrounding the school, other than the missing girl. But she had been missing for a while. Max wondered why nobody spoke about _her_.

So she was back to ground zero. She tried to convince herself so many times the girl was just a figment of her imagination and dreaded going back to the bathroom, so she didn’t. She refused to believe she had talked to a _ghost_. But her ability was getting harder and harder to ignore. 

Ever since she saw the girl in the bathroom, she started to notice more ghosts. And then more. And then more. Ghosts walked among the living daily. Earth was polluted with souls with unfinished business, left to roam the streets with a hollowness not even a beating heart could fill. It was overwhelming. It was either the dogs in the middle of the street, cars passing clean through them, or the souls so old they wouldn’t even look at Max. They wouldn’t even care about the fact someone alive could see them.

Some were more depressing than others. 

There was an old homeless woman, sitting beside a trash bin, with a single hand outstretched, holding a mug. She was close to the Two-Whales and every time Max walked by with her friends, she was there. Hoping someone would give her money. She wondered if it was worth telling her, but Max got to the conclusion the woman deserved to live in bliss, even if ignorant to her fate. 

Roughly a week after meeting the girl in the bathroom, Max couldn’t deny the fact she could see ghosts. And she knew they were ghosts because no one else could see them. She would be walking with Warren around campus and find a cat, only for Warren to ask why Max was petting the air. She’d be sharing tea with Kate in their favorite store and wonder why she never said anything about the little boy peering out the window, skin so grey it have had to be decaying. It was then when she realized she had to go and talk to the girl again. She was the only one that even bothered. 

So that’s exactly what she did. 

On October 13th, Max opened the door to the familiar bathroom and checked every stall to see if anyone was there. To her relief, it was empty. She glanced at the mirrors quickly, just in case the girl decided to pull a horror movie cliché and appear there. 

“Hello?” She called out, her voice surprisingly solid even though a nest of butterflies resided in her stomach. 

The girl opened the door to the bathroom stall closest to the door with a bang. She was leaning against the stall door with her arms crossed and one leg resting on the wall. “‘Sup.” 

Max glared in annoyance. “ _Stop_ doing that!”

The girl smirked and stepped out of the bathroom stall. “Took you long enough to realize you can see ghosts.”

“It’s not that easy to accept,” Max argued, watching the girl’s every movement. With enough convincing, she looked _real_ . It was hard to believe she wasn’t breathing at that very moment. “And I don’t _want_ it.”

“Well, I don’t know why you’re complaining to me.” She replied. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m just a ghost who got the luck of dying in a school bathroom.”

“About that,” Max began. “I tried searching for your death or anything about it. I found _nothing_. It’s like you didn’t even exist.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, that’s probably what he wanted. He’d go to jail if people found out about what he did. And if my suspicions are correct, he did more than kill me.”

“Who is it?” Max murmured. The girl raised her eyebrow, clearly hesitant to tell her. “If a _murderer_ is walking free in the same school I go, I need to do something about it.”

“Nathan Prescott.” The girl said through gritted teeth. Her hands curled into a fist, yet no blood was there to rush and change her skin’s color. 

Max knew who Nathan was. Of _course_ she knew. Victoria’s best friend and a critically acclaimed asshole. Kate and Warren warned her to stay away from those types of people and after seeing what happened to Kate at the Vortex Club party, she knew they were right. 

“I can tell the police,” Max offered. 

The girl scoffed. “And tell them what? _I_ told you? His family got rid of any evidence possible through blackmail, I know it.” 

Max crossed her arms. “Well I don’t think you should spend the rest of your afterlife rotting away in this bathroom.”

The girl glanced at Max for such a quick second, she almost missed it. For a second, it looked like she was truly heart-felt by what she said. Like she had forgotten how caring humans can be. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s just the fate I deserved.”

“I don’t think that either.” 

“You don’t even know me.”

“I could start to,” She suggested, fidgeting with her two bracelets on her right hand. “At least that way you don’t feel so lonely here.”

The girl paused to think about it for a second, staring down at her boots. 

“My name is Max,” She said, offering her a kind smile. 

The ghost hesitated for a second, as if keeping your walls up while being dead even meant something, then gave in. “And I’m Chloe.” 


	2. Basics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know what i'm doing but let's pretend i actually have a story planned out in my head

Max had no idea how to befriend a ghost. 

Especially a ghost like  _ Chloe _ .

The girl had walls higher than a fucking mountain and Max was getting tired of climbing. She guessed death gave people trust issues, but if  _ she  _ was a ghost and knew she’d be alone for the rest of eternity, she’d be kinder to the first person to acknowledge her existence. Chloe, apparently, didn’t think that way at all. She liked observing people more than anything and  _ barely  _ talked for someone who introduced themselves as talkative. 

But most of all, Chloe was curious. When she acknowledged Max’s existence it was only to ask questions. What are you learning in class? Does the fisherman still stand by his stand next to the Two-Whales? Does the homeless woman also sit there, by the back? Is she okay? Does the trucker still show off his very patriotic truck across the same diner? How is the waiter at the Two-Whales? Does she look happy? All these questions were overwhelming and Max didn’t have the answers to all of them, but she was Chloe’s eyes to the rest of the world now. Chloe’s world was just this miserable bathroom.

“I can’t imagine how lonely this is,” Max acknowledged, back pressed against the tiled wall. 

Chloe, sitting next to her wrapped her arms around her legs. “It was...at first. I’ve just accepted this as my fate.”

“What about...after life or purgatory? Don’t you get to leave this world and rest?”

“Dunno,” She replied, looking down at her chipped blue, painted nails. “For all I know, this is the life after death.”

“Well that’s not fair,” Max pointed out. “This isn’t really resting.”

Chloe shrugged. “I kinda  _ am _ , though. I don’t have to worry about my mom yelling at me or my step-prick being himself or paying Frank...”

She had never shared that much of her life up until that point. Max was almost afraid to speak and break the spell, so she didn’t. She just took in the information slowly. Mommy issues, maybe? She mentioned her step-father, and called him a prick, so  _ definitely  _ daddy issues. And paying Frank? Who the hell was Frank? 

“Sounds like you’re having a real vacation,” Max teased, turning to look at her. 

Chloe laughed, allowing the tease. “Except this one’s forever. Guess that doesn’t make it a vacation.”

She sighed. First time befriending a ghost and she had to be a  _ pessimistic  _ one. 

Whether she liked it or not, Max had to leave the bathroom at some point. Return to real life, where although ghosts walked among her, made no effort in talking to her. 

She attended her usual classes, paying little to no attention as always and going about her day with her friends. Max was waiting for Kate to finish grabbing her books for their next class when she saw Victoria and Nathan walk down the hallway. A sudden rage took over her. This asshole got to walk free and do whatever he wanted, while Chloe remained caged in the bathroom. He must’ve noticed her glare, because that was the first time Nathan Prescott ever locked eyes with her. He scowled and shifted his attention back to whatever nonsense Victoria was saying. 

There was nothing stopping her from telling the police. But Chloe was right. There was no evidence of her even dying in the first place. Maybe that’s why she was stuck in the bathroom. Maybe that’s why the ghosts she saw were here. They had unfinished business. They had something or  _ someone  _ keeping them here. 

She was about to head to the bathroom when Kate gently put a hand on her shoulder. 

“You’re going to the bathroom  _ again?” _ She asked, laughing softly. “Drinking too much water? Or a stomach ache?”

Max blushed slightly, forgetting about the fact her many trips to the bathroom could come across differently than the truth. “Yeah it’s just...nevermind, it can wait.”

Was it worth telling somebody else about her ability? Would that person even believe her? Kate was a woman of faith and Max’s parents had never forced a religion onto her. She didn’t know what to believe in now, but she wasn’t naive. Kate would’ve probably thought she’d done a deal with Satan or something. And Warren...Warren was a man of science. How could he possibly understand her ability without going insane? 

Maybe it was Max overthinking. Maybe her friends would be the most accepting of them all, but she wasn’t ready to take that risk yet. She wasn’t ready to put Chloe at risk either. There was so much she didn’t know about her ability...she couldn’t be reckless anymore. Max had someone to protect now. 

________________

The next day, Max barged into the bathroom early in the morning. She had two hours to waste before her first class with a clear mind on what she’d waste her time on. She secretly hoped the bang would scare Chloe, like a way of getting back at her for all those scares. To her luck, the ghost appeared right behind her and said, “Lame.”

Max yelped and twirled towards Chloe’s direction, the door wide behind her. “Did I scare you at least a little bit?”

A beat of silence.

“I’m dead, Max,” Chloe reminded her.

“Tough crowd,” She replied, moving past Chloe and closing the door behind her for privacy. “Anyways! I have an exciting morning ahead of us. You might’ve noticed I’m here earlier than usual. And that’s because for two hours, you and I are going to get to the bottom of my powers.”

Chloe raised her eyebrow. “How are you so sure we can do this?” 

“You’re the only ghost that talks to me.” Max pointed out. 

She smirked at the comment. To why or what exactly was the cause of that smirk, Max had no idea. But she was quite happy with making Chloe smile. She guessed for a little while, Chloe had no reason to smile. 

“Okay, so, where do we start?” She asked. 

“I have no idea.” Max confessed, setting down her bag on the floor hoping it wasn’t wet. She cracked her knuckles in preparation. “Should we try the basics?”

Chloe snorted. When Max looked at her quizzically, she elaborated. “I just wasn’t aware talking to ghosts had ‘the basics’.” 

“Oh, you know,” She said, feeling quite embarrassed. “Conjuring...maybe like controlling you…”

“Valid,” She replied. “Do your thing, I guess.”

Max had no idea how to do her  _ thing _ , so she let her instincts take the wheel. She closed her eyes for a second, allowing the rest of her senses to do anything. It was hard to explain, but despite her eyes being closed, she could still feel Chloe standing close. Logically, there was no way for that to happen. Her body wasn’t radiating heat, so how could she  _ feel  _ her? It’s as if she knew, for a fact, Chloe was still standing there. 

Max took a deep breath and closed her fists, resting idly at her sides.The rest of her senses were very much alive. She could hear every annoying drop the faucet leaked by her right. The distance chatter of the teachers due to the thin walls by her left. Chloe’s wet boots as she paced back and forth. 

Max opened one eye. “I’m not doing anything, aren’t I?”

“Nope,” Chloe said, crossing her arms. “So much for basics.”

She wasn’t about to give up just yet. Her mind already had another different thing she wanted to try. For the past hour, Max and Chloe tried different things that would expand her ability to more than just ‘talking and seeing ghosts’. 

Chloe tried throwing her beanie at her, to see if Max could interact with objects ghosts had on them when they died. She couldn’t catch the beanie. The article of clothing passed clean through her hands and flopped on the floor. Then it was Max’s turn to throw something of hers, to maybe see if  _ ghosts  _ could interact with objects she had. She threw her journal, which contained every thought that ever entered her mind, and watched as it collapsed on the floor. 

Max still couldn’t understand. Chloe could interact perfectly with the bathroom doors and mirrors...was it because they were inside the place she died? To confirm that theory, Max quickly went outside and bought a soda from the vending machine, then returned to the bathroom and asked Chloe to lift it. She couldn’t. She then proceeded to ask Chloe to grab the bucket by the far end of the room. She grabbed it without a problem. 

“It’s like we’re learning more about how ghosts work in general than your actual powers,” Chloe noticed, dropping the bucket with a clang. 

She didn’t exactly hate that idea. Maybe with a more general idea of how ghosts worked, she could discover more on her own limits. Max sighed and went towards her bag to pull out a granola bar. Skipping breakfast probably wasn’t the brightest idea, but the bar that had been in her bag since the first day of school was enough to keep her hunger at bay. 

Chloe glanced down at her journal and noticed one of her pictures in between the pages. “I didn’t know you took pictures.”

Mouth full of spoiled granola bars, she picked up the journal and opened up the page where she kept her pictures. Thankfully, little to none were selfies so she wasn’t completely humiliating herself in front of Chloe. Mostly, there were pictures of what she saw every day. Birds standing in fences with pretty backgrounds in the back, squirrels seemingly posing just for the camera, graffiti she found to be particularly weird, and the rare pictures of her friends. 

“Chloe,” She realized, her mouth opened. “What if I tried taking a picture of you?” 

Chloe frowned. “Did you forget about every paranormal investigator  _ ever  _ failing to photograph a ghost?” 

“Yeah, but they can’t see you like  _ I  _ do.” She argued, standing up and diving for her camera. Chloe was pressed against the wall, looking at her in defeat. Max leveled up the camera to meet Chloe’s face. She appeared in the lens perfectly, like she really was standing in front of her, but she had no way of confirming if that was her eyesight or the actual lens, until she took the shot. 

The picture rolled out of her camera smoothly and she took it gently in her fingers, flapping it around for a couple of seconds. Once it cleared, Chloe leaned over to see the result, only to find the wall by itself. Her curious expression changed into a sour one. “Oh, wow. Who would’ve guessed?”

Max groaned and ripped the picture in disappointment. “This doesn’t make sense. I had a really strong feeling I could do more than just talk to you.” 

“Why’d you wanna know so bad?” Chloe asked, glancing at her pictures again. Max guessed it was because they were small fragments of Arcadia that reminded her of what it was like to live there. 

She sighed. “I know you don’t want me to get involved, but I was hoping I’d find a way to help you lock Nathan in jail.”

Chloe lifted her gaze from the pictures and directly into her eyes. It sent chills down her spine. “You’re still at that? Max, I told you--”

“And I’m telling you he’s the reason you’re  _ stuck  _ here.” She argued, falling to her knees so she met Chloe’s level. At that moment, she wanted to reach out and grab her hand. Comfort her in a physical way when her words lacked. But she remembered what Chloe told her the first day they met.  _ I’m dead and I can’t touch you. _

She sighed. Her voice was quiet. “You don’t know that, Max. As much as I wished that son of a bitch got what he deserved, I was the only one who suspected him. And now I’m out of the game.”

“You have me,” She reminded her, inching closer, her voice just as still. “You can tell me what happened. Chloe, your eternity doesn’t have to be this stinking bathroom. Let me help you.”

Chloe gazed into her eyes. Max could see every shade of every ocean inside them. How can something that literally lacked life, perfectly replicate an ocean? Something that almost represented life itself. Max found it to be beautiful. Like if she focused enough, she could see the depths of the sea in Chloe’s eyes. Little fishes in her irses and the light penetrating the water from above, flawlessly displayed right in front of her. 

“Okay,” She breathed. 

They lingered in each other’s words for a few minutes. Max was still caught in the euphoria Chloe had actually accepted her plan and Chloe seemingly unable to look anywhere that wasn’t Max’s face, like she was still in the trance of what just happened. 

“How are we doing this?” She asked. 

Max sighed. “Well, if we can’t figure out my abilities first then we’d be wasting our time.”

“ _ Your _ time,” Chloe corrected with a smirk. “I’ve got all the time in the world.” 

She rolled her eyes, picking off her energy. “Yeah, yeah. Any ideas?”

Chloe paused. She put her hand under her chin as her eyes darted from side to side. “You could always try talking to another ghost. Maybe I’m not the right one for you.”

Her heart stung. It was weird to feel sad after hearing those words from what was practically a stranger, but maybe Chloe was right. Even though it hurt to admit it. She wasn’t the only ghost in the world. Certainly someone else would be kind enough to exchange a few words. But that wasn’t the cause of her hurt. The reason was--

_ I want you to be the right one for me.  _

“Yeah,” Max said softly, picking up her things and swinging her backpack around her shoulder. “Any ideas on where I could find friendly ghosts?”

Chloe pursed her lips. “The junkyard maybe? I used to go there a lot when I was alive. Always gave me a creepy vibe at night. Bet a junkie overdosed there at some point.”

The junkyard was an odd place to think of, but Max ended up going anyways after her classes. She expected the junkyard to be quite differently than what was in front of her. It was quiet and still and surprisingly, calming. The birds chirped as the wind blew the trees to and fro with the occasional heavy train passing in the distance. 

She wasn’t really sure what she was looking for. The ghosts she saw there were the usual. Some cats and squirrels that probably got run over. Max kept looking around, losing her way a couple of times as she got to know the permiterer. There was a bonfire spot she noticed. Is that what Chloe did here? It wouldn’t surprise her. Close to it, a building caught her attention. She invited herself in, given the fact there was no door and...it was a  _ junkyard _ .

Apparently it was a pretty popular place to hang out. Clear evidence of human life was all over, from the makeup by the couches, to the graffiti on the walls, and the remains of burnt cigarettes. Most of the scribbles on the walls reminded her of her school, but the one that stuck out to her were two sentences, one on top of the other, by the far right of the room. 

_ Chloe was here.  _

_ Rachel was here.  _

It didn’t take much to connect the two dots. Chloe and the missing girl, Rachel Amber, knew each other. They were  _ friends _ . It was all Max needed to go back into the junkyard and look for a person. She didn’t want her first conclusion to be Rachel’s death, but what else could it have been? She’d be missing for weeks now and nobody other than whoever put up the posters was doing anything. 

Max looked at every corner of the junkyard frantically, like she was being timed. Maybe she wasn’t here. Maybe Rachel was somewhere far, far away safe and sound. She kept repeating herself that with every corner she took. Every step she took. But something by the corner of her right eye caught her attention. 

It was a doe. 

Or...a  _ ghost  _ doe, staring directly at her. She carefully followed it, moving slowly in hopes it wouldn’t run away. The doe led her up to a little hill by the far end of the junkyard, the train railways just behind it. A girl was leaning against a tree stump, waiting for the trains to pass by. She was wearing some ripped jeans, flannel, and some converse shoes. But the most distinctive article of clothing she wore was a blue feather by her ear. 

“You’re Rachel,” Max breathed out, the realization of what all of this meant hitting her. 

The girl instantly turned around to face her in shock. The missing posters didn’t do her justice. Everything about her was so beautiful. Even dead, there was no other way to describe Rachel other than beautiful. She got up to meet Max’s eyes, honey pools in a state of alert. 

“You...you can  _ see  _ me?” Rachel gawked, the tiniest hint of a smile creeping on her lips.

“Yes,” Max confirmed, Rachel’s growing smile contagious on her lips. “And you and I have a lot to talk about.” 


	3. Why are you still here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....crickets

By the time Max was done talking with Rachel, dark sky and stars had taken over Arcadia Bay. She was tired, hungry, and had completely forgotten about her homework for the past two days. That didn’t stop her from going back to campus and into the bathroom. She couldn’t rest until she spoke to Chloe. 

Max opened the door to the bathroom, shut it behind her, and walked over to the sink. Chloe was sitting down on the far end of the bathroom, her three-bullet necklace in between her fingers as she observed it. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about Rachel?” Max asked, gripping the edges of the sink tightly. She watched Chloe from the mirror lift her gaze in surprise and stare at her reflection. 

“You met Rachel?” She asked, standing up immediately and walking over to Max. She still didn’t turn to look at her. “How is she? Where did you see her? Is she okay? What did you talk--”

“She’s dead, Chloe,” Max hated to be blunt, but there was no other way. She looked up to meet Chloe’s eyes and saw how they met the ground. Confused. Chloe struggled to get words out as she backed away in belief. Max knew if she still had tears left to shed, she’d shed them right now. It was impossible to not recognize the hurt flashed across Chloe’s face, even if she was dead. Max could feel it. “I’m so sorry.”

“How...” Chloe choked out. “How did it _happen_?”

Max bit the inside of her cheek. She had met a new side of Chloe through Rachel. The way she talked about Chloe was different than the experiences Max had with her. Rachel’s Chloe was reckless. She was funny and charismatic. She was kind and loyal. She was supportive and trustful. She was naive. She was too good for her. She was hurt. Max didn’t know how _this_ version of Chloe would handle the news. 

She owed it to Chloe to tell her. She had to. “Nathan overdosed her.”

Chloe scoffed in disbelief, walked over to the left of the bathroom and fell on the floor. She covered her face with her hands and closed her eyes. “I want to cry. I want to cry so badly but I can’t...I can’t even cry for her…”

Tears weren’t necessary, in Max’s opinion. The absolute hurt her voice showed was enough to leave a hole in her heart. She sat next to Chloe and rested her head on the wall. She couldn’t imagine what Chloe was feeling at that moment...it was no mystery Rachel clearly meant so much to her. 

“I _tried_ looking for her,” Chloe said. Max was aware these words weren’t meant for her. “I swear I did…” 

“She knows you’re dead too,” Max added quietly. “And wishes to see you with all of her heart.”

Chloe sighed and closed her eyes; her shoulders dropped. “And I can’t see her because I can’t leave this place.”

“Nathan has killed two people now,” She acknowledged. “If we all work together, I’m sure we can find some type of evidence and he’ll go to jail. I _know_ it, Chloe. Then both of you get to rest together.”

“Is there really a point?” Chloe asked, looking down at her pale hands. “Did Rachel say she wants to leave?”

Max nodded. She saw her hand was idly resting next to Chloe’s. If she were still alive, would she feel warmth when she softly pressed her palm against hers? What would she feel if they linked their fingers together? Their pinkies were so close...if she just moved a tad inch would what? Touch air? 

_Chloe is dead._ She kept repeating herself. _She’s dead and you’re helping her leave._

Chloe sighed and took off her beanie. She fiddled with the loose tag. “Fine. I don’t know what Rachel told you, but it’s about time I tell you my side of the story. I haven’t been honest with you.”

So Max listened. 

And she listened. 

And she listened. 

She could tell Chloe had bottled up so many things for so many years. She began when her father died. Her life changed drastically because of that, and not for the better. Max tried to imagine a Chloe without her blue hair, rather a soft blonde, and the same blue eyes but these ones with an undoubtable hope only childhood innocence could bring. A Chloe with the same ivory skin, but without the tattoo on her right arm. A Chloe Max didn't know. 

She spoke about how she met Rachel. About Rachel in general. An “angel” as she put it. Max had miscalculated the love Chloe had for Rachel. It was clearly deeper than she had thought. Deeper than _Rachel_ probably thought, but she continued to listen to Chloe. Every word, every sentence, every paragraph reeked of love. 

She almost yearned for something like that. 

And then Chloe spoke about David Madsen, her step-father. Max had seen him a couple of times around campus after Chloe’s death and the man looked unaffected by the news. If he knew about them, that is. Chloe spoke about her mom. About the deep and utterual regret she had of treating her the way she did for all those years. She loved her mom, she really did, but there was no way of showing her that now. 

She spoke about Frank, a drug dealer that had sold drugs to a lot of students in Blackwell. She spoke about how she was practically drowning in debt, and death had whisked that problem away from her. But before she knew that, Chloe spoke about her first interaction with Nathan. About the drugs on her drink. About the pictures, about the broken lamp...her hatred for Nathan couldn’t go deeper but he kept testing her. 

“Something similar happened to Kate,” Max realized, eyes wide in shock. “At the Vortex Club parties weeks ago--she was incredibly drunk. Chloe, it _had_ to be Nathan again.” 

“He’s fucking sick,” Chloe said, shaking her head in anger. “Did Rachel say something similar?”

“Her memories are still very foggy, but she told me they’re getting clearer by the day.” Max replied.

At that moment, her phone buzzed with a notification. It was Kate, asking her if she was up for a movie night. And she really was. After talking to ghosts non-stop for _days_ , she could really use the presence of someone that was actually breathing. And it was getting pretty late. Pretty late for someone to be wandering around the bathroom without actually going, so she readied herself to leave. 

When her hand was on the knob, ready to open the door, she heard Chloe mutter a simple, “Thank you, Max.” It was quiet and soft, but it warmed Max’s chest. She could tell Chloe wasn’t the type to thank someone, so she treasured the gesture whole heartedly. 

“You're welcome,” She replied with a smile, and left the bathroom. 

_______________________________

Max fell into a routine without knowing it. 

In the mornings, she’d come by the bathroom to talk to Chloe. They ran out of insults they could throw at Nathan at one point and their conversations became...normal. Normal for a ghost talking to someone who’s alive. Max would tell her about her classes and friends, shitty things Victoria did to bring out spite, and show her the few pictures she’d taken. 

Chloe was enamoured by her pictures and would constantly ask about the inspiration and story surrounding them. Nobody had ever really cared about her photography that wasn’t Mr. Jefferson, so she couldn’t believe someone who looked like Chloe actually cared about these things. 

Then, she was forced to go to class and pay attention despite her mind wandering off every couple of seconds. She’d manage to survive through another day and go straight to the junkyard, where she’d find Rachel in the same spot she always did. She hardly ever left that tree stump, even though her body was buried elsewhere. 

Rachel was harder to crack than Chloe. She could tell she knew way more than what she let on and there was a specific reason she wasn’t telling Max, which confused her. As a ghost, wouldn’t the one thing you’d want be to rest? Finally? What was keeping her here? Chloe? 

“Rachel,” Max interrupted. She had been telling some story of when she and Chloe fought some drug dealers, but she was too lost in her thoughts to care. “Look, I want to help you. You and Chloe. But I can’t do that if both of you aren’t completely honest with me.”

Rachel sighed. Her eyes glanced to somewhere distant. To what she was staring at? Max didn’t know. This place probably held millions of memories to both Rachel and Chloe. “I don’t want you to get involved, Max.”

“I have this power for a reason. I should use it.”

“But you shouldn’t risk your _life_ doing so,” Rachel argued, fidgeting with her hands. 

Max narrowed her eyes. “Who are you trying to protect? Nathan?”

Rachel sighed and shook her head. Max tried to hint any emotion in her eyes but they weren’t any. They were like a fog. She had just properly met Rachel a few days ago, but she could tell so much from her already. Rachel was afraid. Even in death, there was something Rachel feared. How could Max find out without hurting their friendship?

She thought about the one thing a ghost would truly want. No matter how they died, no matter how they lived, no matter who they were, they’d all want the same thing. She focused on that to hopefully get something out of Rachel. “I thought you wanted to leave.”

That sparked her attention. Max saw it in her eyes. Like a lighthouse suddenly turning on in a sea of blurry fogs. She turned to look at Max in surprise. “I _do_ want to leave.”

“Then tell me who killed you.” She pleaded. “Tell me what happened. And you get to rest.”

Rachel considered it for a couple of minutes. “What...what will happen if I leave Chloe?”

“You’re leaving her with me,” Max reminded her. “I won’t stop until her unfinished business is over, I promise.”

Rachel sighed and trailed her eyes back to the same spot in the junkyard her eyes always wandered to. She lifted her hand and pointed towards it. “I’m buried over there.”

Max’s heart stopped. Hearing those words, it made her realize what was finally happening. She was about to unbury a _body_. She was about to see her first ghost disappear before her eyes. When she spoke, her throat was dry. “And...who killed you?”

Rachel closed her eyes, almost in physical pain. “There’s so much you don’t know…”

“ _Rachel_.” Max said through gritted teeth. 

“Mark Jefferson.” 

______________________________

Max had never realized how _exhausting_ digging up a body would be. 

The first fifteen minutes weren’t bad. Fifteen minutes! That’s all she lasted before her arms and legs started to protest and sweat began to slip down her forehead and her back ache.She knew she wasn’t the most athletic but she could’ve at least sworn she would’ve lasted a couple more hours. 

In her defense, she didn’t have a shovel. She didn’t have time to go and buy one. She used her hands. So much dirt inside her nails and staining the lines in her palms and fingers. Her jeans were dirty as well and not to mention her converse, which weren’t white like they were in the beginning by the time she was done. 

Aside from the intense physical activity, the _stench_ was something she wasn’t prepared for either. Rachel would crack a few jokes every now and then to keep Max cheerful. Max didn’t know how she did it. Watching your own body get dug up surely must’ve been traumatizing. But Rachel kept being nonchalant about it. 

It’s only when Max was done completely digging up the body, a mess of dirt at her sides, that Rachel approached the blue bodybag, it’s container rotting away. She knelt and gently touched the bag with her fingertips, those obviously, passing clean through the bag like it was nothing. 

“What are you thinking?” Max asked, trying to brush any possible dirt she could with her hands and jeans. 

“I’m thinking,” Rachel began. “That you have to make a call to the police.” 

And Max did. 

She pictured up her phone, dialed 911, and told them what she had found. She had no idea what she’d say when the police questioned her as to how she found the body, but that was a problem for Future Max. Rachel simply went to her old spot next to the tree stump and sat down. Max idly followed behind, and sat down next to her. 

“Do you think they’ll believe you?” She asked softly. 

“I have the body to prove it,” Max replied. “And the Dark Room isn’t going anywhere.” 

Rachel sighed and looked down at her hands. “Can you believe I’m nervous? I feel like my hands would be shaking right now.”

Max offered a little smile. “I’m sorry this ever happened to you. But you get to rest now.”

Rachel nodded. She looked at Max for what seemed to be the last time. Max tried to remember the deep hazel in her eyes, like layers and layers of melted gold. Maybe one Chloe would ask about those eyes again, and she had to reply in perfect detail. 

“Can you pass this message to Chloe?” Rachel asked. “Just one last thing I want to say to her.”

Max leaned over as Rachel whispered into her ear. 

And that’s all it took to leave. 

_______________________

She didn’t get proper rest in three days. 

The police wouldn’t leave her alone, but that was to be expected. They asked her every possible question they could and coming up with lies was getting harder and harder. She had only said she was walking in the junkyard to clear her mind when she tripped over something that couldn’t have been a rock, so she dug it up and discovered the awful stench. As to the Dark Room, Max had connected the dots with Rachel’s help. Nathan and the drugs would connect to Jefferson in the Dark Room. It would only be a matter of finding Nathan’s dealer (the same one _Chloe_ had for crying out loud) and a couple of testimonies backing up Max’s claims about the drugs. One of these claims, including Kate’s. 

For her own protection, officers would follow her around campus. She wasn’t left alone a single second of her day. Which she was glad for, in a way. She was fairly aware the Prescott’s were dangerous, especially after sending their son to jail. But she couldn’t stay in the bathroom too long without an officer raising suspicion and knocking on the door. She couldn’t talk to Chloe properly, like she needed to, without thinking someone would eavesdrop. 

But after three days, the situation started to seem less tense. 

The school started to function in the messy way it always had, replacing Mr. Jefferson almost instantly as if he had meant nothing. As if he wasn’t the entire reason Max had returned to Arcadia Bay. The moment Rachel shared her side of the story, there was not one bit of empathy Max felt for the stick, twisted son of a bitch. _He_ was the reason so many girls suffered. He was the reason Chloe ended up dead in the bathroom of the highschool she hated. 

Chloe. 

Funny how everything would always come back to her. 

It was on the fifth day of that week that Max decided to finally check the junkyard again. There were still a couple of police roaming about, just to see if anything was left or if something happened. But that wasn’t what Max was looking for. Sneaking past police was quite easier than she expected, and she ended up on Rachel’s spot by the tree stump. She looked around for her and the doe. 

And they weren’t there. 

These past few days she witnessed her teacher exposed for a psychopathic murderer, an abusive kid being involved, and a litera body she had to dig out. There was no reason for her to feel content about a situation that was everything but happy. But she was. She had helped Rachel finally leave this world and rest, like she should’ve all those months ago. 

It was about time she spoke to Chloe about everything that happened. 

________________

Walking into the bathroom again felt oddly nostalgic for a short period of days. Max would’ve never believed to have considered the bathroom ‘nostalgic’, but that’s all she could think of when she took in the tiled walls of graffiti and wet floors. Her senses were alert so see which way Chloe would scare her, something else to add to the nostalgia, but the bathroom was quiet and still. 

Max’s heart dropped. 

Her mind went to the worst of places. What if, by helping Rachel leave, Chloe followed in her footsteps? Max was perfectly fine with saying goodbye to Rachel but Chloe? How could she have been so stupid? They were so _close_ , it only made sense that if one left the other would follow…

“I’m over here, idiot,” A familiar voice murmured by the end of the bathroom. 

Max sighed in relief, her anxiety loosening up in a second as she raced towards the end of the bathroom to see Chloe leaning against the wall, playing with her fingers. When Max entered her field of view, she abruptly stood up and walked towards her. 

“Where have you _been?_ ” She asked, stretching her arms out wide. “You tell me you’re helping find Rachel’s killer and then you disappear for three _days?_ I thought something had happened to you!”

It was clear Chloe was in a state of panic, yet Max could only happy. She cared. It was nice whatever Max felt wasn’t just one-sided. 

“It’s okay,” Max said softly, holding her hands up, desperately wishing to touch Chloe. “Everything’s okay. I--I’m not hurt. And Rachel’s gone.”

Chloe sighed and broke eye contact. “How did that go?”

“It was weird. First she was there and we were talking...and the next thing I knew she was gone. It was like she faded away.” She tried to explain what she had seen as best as she could, but no words could quite match what she had seen. 

Chloe smiled in relief. “Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me...I could just _hug_ you right now.” 

Max wanted that. A lot. But what would she win for trying? Her heart hurting? A painful reminder that Chloe was dead and there was no way Max could change that? 

She cracked a little smirk and opened her arms. “We could air hug.”

Chloe snorted. “Air hug isn’t a thing.”

“Sure it is,”

“It’s not,”

“Air hug me, Chloe,”

“No,”

“Do it,”

“ _No_ ,”

“Pretty please?” Max pleaded, arms lingering in mid-air. “Don’t make me look like an idiot.”

“You do that yourself,” Chloe teased. But after a few hesitant moments, she raised her arms to match Max’s. They locked eyes and their smile only grew bigger. Chloe even patted the air a few times, something to add to the joke, and it made Max chuckle. 

When Max’s arms dropped and her laughter lessened, but the warmth lingered in her chest, she looked around the bathroom. She started to think. She was still proud for having both Jefferson and Nathan locked up without any casualties. They wouldn’t be hurting anybody ever again. But the more she thought about that the more she realized...Nathan was in jail. Nathan. The guy that _killed_ Chloe was in jail. 

“Chloe,” She started, eyes trailing up to meet hers. “If Nathan is in jail, why are you here?” 

Chloe frowned, realizing the same thing Max did. 

Nathan was supposed to be Chloe’s unfinished business like Jefferson was to Rachel. If Nathan had already gotten what he deserved, and his ties with Chloe were over...what the hell was keeping her here? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a lot of grammatical errors here i'm sorry lmfao just pretend they don't exist


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